


loyalty

by wrennette



Series: Trashpile: A Compendium of Unfinished Fics [26]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Blanket Permission, Evil Author Day, Gen, Post-Investigations, don't repost or copy to another site, enemies to co-workers to something like friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/pseuds/wrennette
Summary: While reviewing the facts after Tom returns to the ship post-Investigations, Chakotay begins a quiet campaign to claim Tom's loyalty.
Relationships: Chakotay & Tom Paris
Series: Trashpile: A Compendium of Unfinished Fics [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/712446
Comments: 6
Kudos: 11





	loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> happy evil author day! For those unfamiliar with the premise, ead is annually on 02/15, and we evil authors post fic titles, snippets, and so forth with absolutely zero promise that these works will be continued or completed. this fic has been languishing in my drafts for a long while without advancing, so here you go, happy ead!
> 
> this fic, if it continued, would end up chakotay/tom, but i never got that far so it's not tagged as such

Chakotay read through the report, his disgust rapidly growing. At the outset, he had been furious with Tom Paris. The Lieutenant had grown on Chakotay since they were all stranded in the Delta Quadrant, and until recently he’d thought that respect reciprocated. The way Tom had acted during the mole hunt had hurt Chakotay deeply - more deeply than he’d anticipated. But now, the more Chakotay read, the more his anger shifted to the captain. 

It had been clear from the beginning of their odyssey that Paris was devoted to Janeway. In hindsight the mole hunting operation reeked of coercion based on that loyalty. Janeway had systematically preyed on Paris’ all too obvious vulnerabilities, chipping away at his already thin support system and self esteem. By the time Tom left the ship, only three members of the crew, two of them Delta Quadrant natives, had been at Tom’s side to wish him farewell and good luck. Chakotay had realized early on that the captain was ruthless, and in many situations that was a valuable trait. But this - no matter how poorly Chakotay had thought of Paris at times, no one deserved such treatment from the officer responsible for their health and safety.

“Chakotay to Paris,” Chakotay called, tapping his comm once he ascertained the pilot was off duty.

“Acknowledged,” Paris replied, sounding tired.

“Come to my office lieutenant,” Chakotay commanded, a plan of action forming in his mind. While the entire debacle was personally embarrassing, this might be a chance to claim Paris’ loyalty to himself, and once gained, the pilot’s devotion was all but unshakeable.

“On my way Commander,” Paris said, and before long, the door chime rang. 

“Come,” Chakotay directed.

“Sir,” Paris greeted, snapping crisply to regulation perfect attention. Chakotay held in a sigh. That wasn’t the being he wanted to speak to - that was the mask, the shallow, sharp-witted, golden boy persona that others were used to seeing. He wanted the man beneath, the eager intellect that had pushed himself to the transwarp threshold and beyond, the obstinate loyalty that had pledged itself - perhaps inadvisably - to the Captain’s cause. He wanted the teasing but ultimately respectful man who twitted him from across the pool table, pale eyes dancing with mirth.

“Come in and sit Mr. Paris,” Chakotay said, gesturing at the chair.

“Sir,” Paris acknowledged, and obeyed.

“How are you settling back in Lieutenant?” Chakotay asked. He could already see not all was well, but wanted to hear, wanted to know if Tom still trusted him, and how far. Heavy bags shadowed Paris’ eyes, and his gaze was a bit cloudy, his usual pallor even more translucent.

“Sir?” Paris asked more hesitantly, blinking at Chakotay. Even looking like he hadn’t slept in days, Paris had to be one of the more attractive men on the crew. 

“I know that assignment can’t have been easy,” Chakotay acknowledged. “You don’t have so many friends you’d be comfortable alienating the entire bridge crew, even if it was on orders.”

“I - I _am_ sorry sir,” Paris said, voice all but disappearing as he addressed the floor in front of Chakotay’s desk. Chakotay sighed deeply. He’d already re-watched Tom’s public apology more than once, and each subsequent viewing he’d seen more fear and tension in Tom, more nervous bravado.

“I know you are Paris. And unfortunately I don’t have any advice on how to fix things. It’ll take a while for scuttlebutt to get around to something like the truth,” Chakotay said, then stood and rounded the desk to lean against the front. 

“And with you?” Paris asked, finally looking up. “How do I fix things with you?”

“That conversation we had in the mess,” Chakotay ventured, and Tom flushed, looking away. “How much of that was true? And how much was acting?”

“There were - a few kernels of truth,” Tom allowed. “I do feel - a bit out of place. It’s been some time since I had anything like a home, a purpose.”

“And Briefing with Neelix?” Chakotay asked and Tom grimaced, wringing his hands. 

“You - you must know how much I respect you sir,” Tom said quietly, his voice stained. “I wouldn’t have pushed so hard if I didn’t, I needed - I needed it known there was no hope for me and I - I figured if I was seen in conflict with you, whose respect I’d worked so hard to gain, it would be clear there was nothing else for me, but to leave the ship.” He took a deep, shuddering breath, and Chakotay couldn’t help but note how open and vulnerable Tom was allowing himself to be, that golden boy mask set aside for the moment. “I don’t know how to fix this,” Tom admitted, finally looking up at Chakotay.

“Just be yourself Tom,” Chakotay said with a slight smile. “Now that I’ve read things through, it’s not you I’m angry at. The Captain put too much on you, and while you accomplished your task admirably, it wasn’t without a personal cost to you.” Tom’s eyes went wide and wet at that, and Chakotay closed the narrow gap between them, tugging Tom into an embrace as the younger man collapsed, sobbing, against him.

“I’m sorry,” Tom choked out when he regained some control of himself, pushing back slightly.

“That’s what friends are for,” Chakotay said gruffly. “And you are my friend Tom.” Tom nodded, a few more tears leaking down his thin cheeks. “Now, why don’t you clean up, then we’ll head down to the mess. I don’t think it would hurt for the rest of the crew to see us together.” Tom smiled at that, a true smile of pleasure. 

“I’d like that,” Tom admitted, and Chakotay nodded, then hauled Tom to his feet and pushed him gently towards the attached head. Tom washed his face quickly, grimacing at his wan reflection. Chakotay clasped him firmly on the shoulder when he returned to the office, and Tom felt his cheeks heat, wanting badly to step closer, steal another of those warm, strong embraces. 

“What is it?” Chakotay asked, and Tom’s flush deepened. Silently, Tom stepped into Chakotay’s space, burying his head against Chakotay’s shoulder even as he hugged the Commander. Chakotay let out a deep sigh, then wound his arms around Tom’s waist, leaning back against the front of his desk and letting Tom hold on as long as he needed.


End file.
